


A Single Day

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Fluff, Friendship, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, The Quidditch Pitch: Leaving Feast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-27
Updated: 2008-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-27 15:19:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10811640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: A year after the battle has been won, after the loss of loved ones, a new life gives the Weasleys a reason to smile.How can one day represent loss and joy at the same time?





	A Single Day

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** _A/N: Many thanks to my good friend, **belovedranger**_ _, for her wonderful, detailed beta work. – Your help and encouragement is invaluable to me. Thanks!_

Sunday, May 2, 1999:

 

_Plunk._

Errol landed unceremoniously on the kitchen counter nearest to the window, and Molly hurried to him hoping to find a parchment tied to his tired legs. But no such luck. The old owl had flown in from his favorite branch in the olive tree, looking for a treat. Molly reached for a colorful jar where she kept the owl treats and filled up a small plate with cool water. As she handed Errol his dinner, Molly sighed disappointedly.

This was highly unusual: it was a typical Sunday evening, but no one had come home for dinner. Sundays were usually the days where more than one of her children would show up for dinner, to play a good chess match, or simply to share the week’s happenings. It was a gathering Molly always looked forward to.

The dinner table would be magically expanded to fit all the children and their significant others, who accompanied them more often than not. Molly had easily learned to love them as her own, and would miss them when, for some reason, they couldn’t make the family dinners. She especially missed Ginny and Hermione, who were at Hogwarts and could only make Sunday dinners during the holidays or the odd occasions during the school’s Hogsmeade weekends when they would Apparate to the Burrow, with Minerva’s permission, of course.

Many times, during those wonderful Sunday afternoons, the house felt full of life, young, and energetic. It was almost as if her children had never left home. Molly enjoyed those afternoons more than she could truly say. She would get up early, ready and willing to prepare a feast that included all their favorite dishes. There were times when, in the middle of the familiar chaos and laughter, she would close her eyes and transport herself back to a time before Bill started Hogwarts, a time when she had all her family under the same roof. It never failed to make her smile.

Molly couldn’t deny that she missed her children terribly, and that she still couldn’t get used to a Burrow where the only occupants were her and Arthur. She loved her husband dearly and enjoyed the quiet evenings in the sitting area with his arm around her shoulders and her head resting on his chest, but each of her children occupied a place in her heart and mind that nobody could ever replace.

As she sat in her thoroughly worn-out but comfortable rocking chair, Molly looked up at the frame-filled mantle and sighed with an air of nostalgia. Her children, in different stages of their lives, waved and smiled looking down at her. So many memories had been captured in those pictures, and she could easily recall each of them with surprising and vivid detail.

There was the time when Bill displayed magic for the first time by turning the walls of his room purple; the day Charlie learned to spell his name; when Percy proudly announced he was going to grow up to be the Minister of Magic; when the twins played a practical joke on Muriel during a Christmas dinner; the day Ron borrowed Bill’s broom and flew by himself all around the orchard; and the day when Ginny refused to take off the princess gown Arthur had bought her the day she turned five.

They were all grown up now: each of them with a purpose in life, each of them following the path they had chosen, each of them sharing their life with someone who made them happy… and that was all Molly could ask for.

Her only sorrow was Fred’s absence. There was a deep grief that followed her around the house, stepping out the shadows to remind her all too often that she was not fully blessed. Losing Fred had been Molly’s worst nightmare; it was something she was never going to fully accept. It was the worst kind of pain, and one that didn’t ever go away.

There were nights when she would suddenly wake up thinking Fred was making some sort of havoc, only to realize it was only a dream. Sometimes, when her longing for Fred was overwhelming, it seemed that a lifetime had passed since his death. Other times, when the pain was so strong and tangible that it literary hurt, it seemed it was only yesterday when she had lost her son. Everyone kept telling her it would get easier, but Molly wasn’t sure that would ever be true.

She looked for the umpteenth time at her charmed clock and cursed inwardly. Her beloved clock had stopped working a few days ago, and Arthur hadn’t got around to fixing it. She hated not being able to rely on it when she was sorely in need to know where her family was. The food had been reheated several times, and she was starting to lose hope anyone would show up today.

It was odd; her children usually Owled or Flooed, letting her know if they couldn’t make it, and no one had done so today. Charlie, who had taken a week off from his job in Romania to visit the family, had left early in the morning to spend part of the day with Bill, but he had assured her he would be back for dinner.

Not even Arthur was home. He had gone to Diagon Alley earlier in the day to pick up some trinket or such he needed to fix up a project he had been working on in the shed, but it was getting awfully late and there was no sign of him either.

She got up from her rocking chair and made her way to one of the large windows of the house. She pressed her face against the cool glass and let her eyes wander, looking for any sign of the familiar red hair she was so fond of. The crescent moon and a few scattered stars were the only source of light in the otherwise dark night. _What could be keeping them away?_

 

Almost as if a Bludger had been sent her way, it suddenly hit her. A year ago today the final battle had ended… the second war had been won. “Oh.”

_How could I forget such a date?_

She had no excuse, and she felt deeply ashamed. So many losses, so much sorrow. It had been a year… a year without Fred. Too long, too painful. She clutched her heart and swallowed hard, fighting hard to keep her tears in check. She suddenly felt dizzy and moved to sit in the nearest chair, her hands looking for something solid to hold on to.

It had been a year of conflicting emotions––sadness and hope, pain and relief, frustration and justice. They had finally started living without fear being present in their everyday lives, but they had paid such a high price for it.

She couldn’t believe that the day had gone by without anyone mentioning it. Did she even read the  _Daily Prophet_  this morning _?_  Molly was sure the paper had made a big deal about this day: in a good or bad light, she wasn’t sure. She looked around the room, trying to locate the copy of the paper that was usually delivered early in the day.

Why didn’t Arthur remind her this morning? Was it easier for him not to say anything? But what about the rest of her children? Were they all thinking about Fred, remembering the good times, as Fred would have wanted them to? How about Andromeda? She and Teddy had lost too much at once. Today had to be especially hard for… well, for everyone. Pain couldn’t be compared; it was just felt.

Harry.

It had to be especially hard on him… so young, and so much responsibility had been placed on his shoulders. It hadn’t been easy for Harry to see all the mourning. He had blamed himself for so long. It wasn’t easy for him to understand that the pain, the grief, the losses were not his fault. Letting such responsibility go was something he still struggled with. It hadn’t been easy for him to adjust to a life where he could do anything, where he didn’t have a prophecy to fulfill or destiny to follow. That’s why he had signed up to be an Auror right away; he needed something to focus on, to keep him busy.

“Mum! Mum, where are you?” There was an urgency in Percy’s voice that scared her, and Molly quickly made her way to the fireplace.

“Percy, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, expect… why aren’t you here? We have been waiting hours for you; we’re getting worried.”

Molly was startled and confused. She had no idea where she was supposed to be: a memorial, maybe? She felt like a fool for forgetting, for not knowing. “Waiting where?”

“St. Mungos. Fleur went into labor hours ago.”

“What?!” Molly said flustered. “I’m on my way.” And without another word, Molly put on her traveling cloak and Disapparated away from the Burrow.

~*~*~

Molly walked briskly through the hallways of St. Mungos, looking left and right for any sign of her family. She couldn’t believe they hadn’t called for her before. Percy had said Fleur had gone into labor  _hours_  ago. What could have possibly taken them so long to contact her?  _Arthur better have a good explanation_ , she thought, fuming.

At last, she found them in the waiting area of the maternity ward.

“Molly, dear…” Arthur began, but as soon as she threw him a dirty look, his voice got lost amongst those of their children.

“Mum!”

“Where were you?”

“Fleur, she…”

Molly ignored the chorus of greetings and questions and, not being able to locate Bill, went directly to Charlie. “Where are they? Has she given birth yet? Is Bill in with her?”

He took a small step back and scratched his head. “Er… yeah. Dunno, I mean I don’t know if the baby’s come yet. She seemed to be in pain, loads of it.” Charlie winced as if feeling the pain himself. “But it’s been hours,” he added, looking towards a set of blue double doors.

Molly patted his arm. “Of course, dear, of course. That’s normal for a first birth.” She then turned around and faced the rest of her family. “Why didn’t anybody tell me about this earlier? And what are you two doing here? Does Minerva know?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at Ginny and Hermione.

Hermione bit her lip, but Ginny quickly nodded and spoke up. “She does. It was a Hogsmeade weekend, and we…” she said, motioning with her head towards Harry, Ron, and Hermione, “were at The Three Broomstick having a Butterbeer.”

“We wanted to spend the day together. Quietly, not doing much,” Hermione continued. Her tone was careful, as if thinking of the right words. “We were waiting for later… to head back to Hogwarts for the feast to commemorate––”

“But then Charlie’s Patronus came,” Ron interrupted almost brusquely; there was a warning in his stare. “We were going to Apparate right away, but Hermione insisted that she and Ginny had to go back to Hogwarts and ask McGon––I mean Professor McGonagall for permission.”

“She let us use the fireplace in her office. We Flooed to the Leaky Cauldron, and then Apparated just outside; that’s how we got here,” Harry finished.

This was all said quickly, without looking at Molly in the eye. It was clear to her that they’d tried to avoid the emotional significance of the day by using a matter-of-fact kind of tone for their explanations.

Molly raised her brows questioningly, and she was about to further interrogate them when Ginny quickly added, answering her unspoken question, “Side-Along Apparition. Harry helped me get here. I didn’t want to miss the birth.”

Molly relaxed a bit, satisfied with their explanation, but soon her practical side returned. “All right, we’ll just have to make sure you girls Floo back to Hogwarts before it gets too late; Minerva might get worried, and besides we can’t take advantage of the special permission she grants you two.”

It looked as if Ginny was about to protest, but thought better of it and instead shrugged her shoulders in a resigned manner. Molly wasn’t fooled; she knew Ginny would put up a fight later when their time to return to Hogwarts came. But she would worry about that later.

“Charlie, why didn’t you send me word with your Patronus or an Owl?”

“I did. Well, I sent it to Dad. I just assumed you were both at the Burrow, that you would get the news together.” He scrunched his brows, looking thoroughly sorry for the omission.

Arthur stepped forward, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s my fault, Molly. I know I said my trip to Diagon Alley would be quick, but I got sidetracked visiting the shop.” He glanced quickly at George, who was sitting on one of the chairs in the waiting area with his head leaning back against the wall and eyes closed, as if wanting to shut everyone out, and then he looked back at Molly. “I wanted to see the new products George and Ron have been raving about. And when Charlie’s Patronus came, all I could think of was to get here as quickly as possible.” He looked at her sheepishly; she could see an apology written in his eyes.

In that moment, Molly berated herself for getting upset with Arthur, and the anger was quickly replaced with a deep gratitude. He was doing what any parent would be doing, what she was supposed to be doing––being there for George. And with the news of their first grandchild about to be born, it was only natural that Arthur could think of nothing else but getting to St. Mungos as quickly as possible.

Molly turned her eyes toward George. If someone needed company today, it had to be him. Yes, he needed company; being alone, especially on a day like today, could not be good for him. She briefly wondered if he felt uncomfortable surrounded by so many. George like attention, but since Fred’s death he had a hard time relating with a big group of people. He preferred the quiet company of a few. He had visibly changed.

No matter what anyone said, Molly knew George’s grief was different somehow… bigger, deeper. Most of the time he got around and accomplished his everyday tasks, but it was out of responsibility not conviction. It was hard for anyone to truly understand what it meant to lose your twin. Fred and George were more than brothers; they were two parts of a whole. Molly silently hoped George could find a reason to smile. She desperately wanted him to live fully. It killed her that she couldn’t do more to reach out to him.

Molly moved slowly towards George, her mind racing to find just the right words. At his side, she bent down and gently caressed his fringe, and he opened his eyes at her touch. “I know it’s hard… I love you,” she murmured.

He smiled at her sadly and silently mouthed, “I’m okay.” And although Molly knew it was only half a truth, she nodded and placed a kiss on his forehead.

She then moved towards Arthur, who still looked worried. Molly knew she had to remedy that. She truly had overreacted, her anxiety getting the better of her. She stepped up close and hugged him at the waist; she then tipped her head upwards to place a kiss on his chin. “You’re a wonderful father, Arthur. A wonderful man. Thank you.” She felt his breath on her skin as he let out a relieved sigh, and she held him close, leaning her head against his shoulder, as they all waited for news about Fleur.

From the corner of her eyes, Molly watched her children. Her disappointment at not having them home for dinner had completely vanished, for having them all together here was even better. She could never get over how different they all were. True, deep down they all held more or less the same moral values she and Arthur had tried to teach them growing up, but their differences were just as marked.

Charlie was pacing up and down the corridor. He was never one to keep still for long. His sense of adventure was present from very early on, so it hadn’t surprised Molly when he’d decided on a career working with dragons. Percy was always the most formal, the most organized, and the one who was usually on top of things. It wasn’t surprising he was the one to have Flooed her when he didn’t see her here. Ginny had a fiery personality, always speaking her mind, never wanting to be left behind. This was visible in her demeanor, like how impatiently she was tapping her foot just now. Molly smiled; her children could be so predictable.

The  _swoosh_  of the double doors opening abruptly brought her out of her reverie. Bill was standing before them, taller than usual, pride etched across his face.

“Well?” a chorus of eager voices demanded almost instantly.

“A girl… Fleur… I,” he said, shaking his head in an amusing disbelief, “we have a baby girl.”

~*~*~

When Charlie and Ron had started making bets on when their first  _nephew_  would be born, Arthur had been the only one to bet that it wouldn’t be a  _nephew_  but a  _niece_. How he knew that, Molly didn’t know, but as she heard her boys laugh heartily at their dad’s assurance, she had secretly longed Arthur to be right.

A girl. A baby girl. Bill’s baby girl. Molly couldn’t be happier.

Because she had six other children to tend to, Molly’d had little time to truly enjoy Ginny as a baby. True, she never neglected Ginny, but her attention had been divided among all her children, and she couldn’t spend her time indulging in the joy of having a girl.

Now, she was a grandmother.  _Amazing_. This was such a new sensation, seeing her oldest son now bringing a new life into the world. She could hardly believe it.

With little to do at home, she had all the time to fully enjoy the tenderness of it all. She planned to be present, as much as Fleur would allow her. She wanted to spend all her time cuddling and seeing her granddaughter blossom. She could hardly wait.

As they waited for the Healer’s trainee to bring back her grandchild after the routine check-up, Molly looked around Fleur’s room impatiently. For just a moment, it was all the same as before - just them, her family. No new baby in their lives. Molly felt silly for having wished that they all be at her house that evening.

Hermione and Harry stood back, closer to the door, as if not wanting to intrude. It was silly; they were family after all. Molly walked to them and gently prompted them to join the rest of the group. Ron wasted no time in making Hermione feel included; with a big grin, he slung his arm around her shoulders and pulled her just a bit closer to him. Hermione blushed prettily and lowered her face to hide a pleased smile. Meanwhile, Ginny intertwined her hand with Harry’s and leaned softly against him.

On the opposite side of the room, Bill was at Fleur’s side, holding her hand. He was looking at her with a mix of reverence and gratitude, and he repeatedly asked her if she ‘needed anything.’ Fleur looked tired, but to Molly she was more beautiful than ever. Her long, blonde hair was tied back, and her blue eyes had a different spark to them. She was sitting up straight and her eyes were glued to the door; she was eager to have her baby girl back in her arms. Not for the first time, Molly felt a pang of guilt at having doubted Fleur when Bill had first told her they were getting married. Back then, she hadn’t given Fleur a fair chance.

“Have you taught of a name?” Molly asked curiously, clearing her throat to calm her jumbled emotions.

Bill and Fleur looked at each other and after a small smile from Fleur, he turned to the whole family and said, “Victoire. In honor of what today represents, what it gave us.”

After what seemed like a long, deep silence (but one that truly only lasted seconds), Hermione was the first one to speak up. “It’s a lovely name.” Her choked-up voice broke the stunned stillness in the room.

Before Bill had spoken, no one had mentioned that one year ago today the war had ended, good and bad coming out of it. It was a hard subject to bring up, and having Fleur and the birth to worry about had made it was easier to leave things unsaid. It was something Molly knew wasn’t healthy, but they were all still learning to cope with the loss.

“Yes, yes… it’s a lovely name,” agreed Molly, and she bent over to place a kiss on Fleur’s forehead. Then, she rounded the bed and leaned against Bill’s strong frame as he lifted his arm to embrace her. “Don’t you agree, Arthur?” Arthur who looked to be far away, quickly blinked at hearing her question and agreed with a nod and small smile.

It seemed that the mention of what today represented had brought back very vivid memories for everyone, and not all were pleasant. Molly noticed Bill’s apprehensive glance towards George; when their eyes met, they shared a sad smile. Molly knew George understood that celebrating the victory didn’t diminish the sorrow for what was lost, for losing Fred.

“It fits,” George said simply, walking over to congratulate the proud parents. _“Orchideous,”_  he said, and handed Fleur a beautiful bouquet of white and pink flowers.

“Oh! Merci. Ze flowers are vairy pretty, George.” Fleur’s voice was weak, but her eyes shone brightly.

A soft knock on the door made Molly turn her eyes towards it. The Healer trainee had just brought back Victoire. Molly moved aside, not wanting to be in the way.

“She’s beautiful, Mrs. Weasley,” the Healer trainee said as she handed Fleur the baby.

“Mon bébé,” Fleur said, tenderly caressing her baby’s face.

Bill sat carefully next to her, and leaned in closer to both them, stretching his neck to look at Victoire. Molly saw his features go from wonder to awe to nervousness to unconditional love. She had never seen him so complete.

“Beel, do you want to’old ’er?”

Bill looked suddenly startled, but that didn’t hold him back. He took a deep breath and extended his arms as Fleur maneuver around to hand him Victoire. He was holding her so carefully, almost as if afraid of dropping her. His eyes didn’t leave her face; it was as if he was committing to memory every detail of his daughter. He then moved around the room to where all his siblings were gathered.

“This is your Uncle Charlie. He a great flier, you know.” Charlie took hold of one of Victoire’s fisted hands; it looked even smaller next to Charlie’s.

“And he takes care of dragons,” Bill continued as Charlie’s grin grew wider. “If he does that with such ease, I’m sure he’ll do anything to protect you. You’ll always be safe with him.”

Charlie nodded quickly, a silent promise made. Molly knew that if it were up to Charlie, nothing would ever hurt Victoire. The most adventurous of her sons, the one who was cool and collected, was now completely taken by his first niece.

Bill moved on, determined, it seemed, to introduce Victoire to each member of the family. From her bed Fleur smiled, amused. “Beel is ‘appy,” she whispered to Molly.

Molly agreed with a smile, and she squeezed Fleur’s hand in gratitude for giving Bill, and the whole family, such joy. Both women watched as Bill moved on to Percy and Audrey next.

Audrey was the newest member of the Weasley family; she and Percy had got married in the spring. It had been a quiet and small ceremony; it was what both of them had wanted. Audrey was still getting acquainted with being part of such a big, boisterous family. She was shy and reserved, and it still seem to take her by surprise how different the Weasleys were from her own family.

She was Muggle-born and an only child, very much like Hermione. She and Percy had met at Hogwarts. Audrey was a brilliant Ravenclaw, the same year as Percy. They had re-connected one day at the Leaky Cauldron. Since then they had become inseparable. Audrey was a young Healer at St. Mungos, and the couple shared the ambition and dedication to their respective careers. Percy had gone to great lengths to protect her when the Ministry went after Muggle-borns. Molly suspected that Audrey had a lot to do with Percy coming back to the family. That was enough to embrace her with open arms.

“This is your Uncle Percy and your Aunt Audrey. Can you smile for them?”

“She’s beautiful, Bill. Can I hold her?” Audrey asked shyly.

“Sure.”

“Careful with her head,” Percy added. He seemed almost nervous at seeing Audrey holding a baby. His posture was stiff yet watchful, but he did crack a small smile when Victoire cooed.

Molly head back and emotional sob as she imagined more grandchildren in the future. She could clearly imagine big family get-togethers enriched with the joy and pride kids would add to her childrens’ lives.

“She likes you,” Bill said sincerely.

Audrey thanked him with a genuine grin as she handed Victorie back to Bill. He now moved to George. Molly could spot in Bill a mix of hesitation and worry. But he didn’t need to worry. George had done his best to quietly put aside his sorrow for Fred to truly celebrate this new beginning.

“This is your Uncle George. He’s the funniest bloke around. He’ll keep you entertained and laughing all the time. He and I will make sure you know all about your Uncle Fred, right George?” he finished looking up at his brother.

“Yeah…” he managed.” He then leaned down to closer to Victorie and placed a small kiss on her forehead. “I’m sure you would have been Fred’s favorite.”

Next to George, Ginny sniffed a little too loudly. She quickly wiped away her tears, and demanded playfully, “Hey, when is it my turn to meet my niece?”

“We’re coming, Gin.” He adjusted his hold on Victorie as she squirmed in his arms. “This is my baby sister and your Aunt Ginny.”

“Baby? Really, Bill?” But she quickly forgot her mock indignation and turned to her niece. “Aww, she has your eyes, Bill. And look at her nose––it’s so small. She’s perfect, Bill. Perfect.”

“Look at this, sweetheart, you’ve turned your tough Aunt Ginny into a pile of goo,” he said playfully.

Ginny rolled her eyes as Bill walked over to Ron, Harry, and Hermione. “This is your Uncle Ron.” Ron, Hermione, and Harry crowded around Bill, all wanting to meet Victoire.

“Wow, she’s so tiny,” Ron said in a tone of surprise.

“Of course she’s tiny, Ron; she’s a newborn,” Hermione said, shaking her head.

“This is Hermione, your Aunt Hermione pretty soon, if I’m not mistaken. See, your uncle Ron is mad about her,” Bill added with a wink.

Ron and Hermione blushed furiously, but neither of them protested. To Molly’s surprise, Ron even went as far as reaching down and squeezing Hermione’s hand. She wasn’t surprised by Ron’s affection, but it did surprise her that he was now showing it so openly. Her youngest son had grown up so much, he now stood taller, sure of himself. There was a quite confidence in him, and Molly felt extremely proud of him.

“She’s beautiful, Bill,” Hermione said sincerely, trying to get the attention away from her and Ron. “She looks like an angel.” Carefully, Hermione caressed her hair. “Oh, she’s got Fleur’s hair.”

“She’s free of the Weasley red, thankfully,” Ginny piped in.

“Oh, I don’t know. I think red hair is quite lovely,” Hermione said without thinking.

“You do?” Molly barely heard Ron whisper to her. Hermione bit her lip but nodded. And Molly made out Ron’s contented grin as he mouthed, “Good.”

Meanwhile, Bill had moved on to Harry. “And this is Harry. You’ll hear all about him when you’re older. He’s quite a legend, but around here he’s just one of us.”

Harry, his hands in his pockets, managed an embarrassed smile. He wasn’t really was one to like attention. He really did prefer to be known as “one of us.” Harry looked down at Victoire, but he seemed to be at loss for words. “Congratulations,” was all he managed to say.

“Thanks, mate.”

Arthur seemed to be as eager as Molly felt about meeting their granddaughter. So when Bill got around to him, his face filled with anticipation. Bill must have noticed Arthur’s excitement as well because he immediately asked, “Dad, d’you want to hold her?”

“Of course.” Arthur pushed up his glasses straight and rolled up his sleeves. It was endearing to Molly seeing Arthur so eager to have Victoire in his arms.

“Your grandfather is the best man I know,” Bill said as he placed Victoire in his dad’s open arms. “He’ll tell you the best bedtime stories. Won’t you, Dad?”

Molly knew that to be true. Arthur had often felt guilty about spending so much time at the Ministry. He felt he was missing seeing his children grow up, so he’d made a point to get home by bedtime and spend quality time telling stories to his children. And the stories were not only the traditional ones all the wizard children were told. No. Arthur made a point of making up thrilling adventures in faraway lands. The stories were filled with dragons and giants, mermaids and ghosts, talented wizards and Muggles. The children looked forward to bedtime stories as much as to getting to play Quidditch.

“Of course.” His attention then turned only to Victorie. Arthur had always been wonderful with children; it came to him naturally. “Hello there, princess.” Molly patiently watched Arthur babble away to Victorie, but she couldn’t help wish that he would hurry up and bring her over.

Arthur seemed to have read her mind, because it wasn’t long before he stepped closer to Molly saying, “This is your grandmother. She’ll love you so much. She already does. And she’s going to spoil you and make your favorite meals and knit you pink jumpers for Christmas. You’re lucky to have her.”

“Oh Arthur, shush. Here.” She extended her arms. “Let me hold her.” Molly was almost trembling with glee. “Ginny’s right, Bill. She’s perfect.” She cuddled Victorie close to her heart and enjoyed the simple pleasure of looking at her. Her hands were soft but strong; she could see it from the grip her granddaughter had on her blanket. Her eyes were the same intense blue as Bill’s and the rest of her features were identical to Fleur’s.

Molly could see Fleur fighting to keep awake and realized it was time to go. Both girls needed to rest. There were too many people in the tiny room. There would be time to visit later, once Fleur returned to Shell Cottage. Reluctantly, Molly placed Victorie back in Bill’s arms.

“C’mon lot, it’s time to go.”

Quickly, they all took turns to say goodbye, and Ginny made sure to kiss Victoire. “I’ll see you soon,” she whispered before being pulled gently by Harry.

As Molly closed the door behind them, she couldn’t help but think of the irony of Victoire being born on the same day Fred had died a year ago. How could one day represent loss and joy at the same time? It was something they would all have to learn to live with. Molly would make sure no damper would be put on Victorie’s future birthdays; it wouldn’t be fair to her. Molly knew George would agree with her. And so would Fred.

Yes, Fred would love this.


End file.
